The UK Invasion
by motoroilfreeway
Summary: [USUKUS] "You're THEUKINVASION." Alfred can't help but question the universe with its choice in letting him meet his favourite porn blog mod. Part 2 of my Erotomania!verse
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This posted a day late on ff, sorry about that. The things cramming for papers and 4 exams in 4 days does to the human brain is fucking amazing. Another shit that cost me was copying the wrong file for my EDITED DRAFT gawd. It's a good thing that my editor was being patient and understanding today...or was he?  
**

 **SO WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC ARE: MENTIONS OF PORNOGRAPHY, FANFICTIONS, UK BEING A FANFIC WRITER/ARTIST, US BEING UK'S BIGGEST FAN, UK DOING A LOT OF KINKY PORN SHIT THAT SHOULD NOT BE SEEN BY THE MAJORITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. THE PORN MATERIAL THAT WILL BE MENTIONED HERE ARE NITROPLUS KIND OF PORN (THAT MEANS THERE'S GORE AND OTHER DISTURBING SHIT)**

 **APOLOGIES FOR LITTLE ERRORS BECAUSE I DIDN'T PROOFREAD**

* * *

"You're THEUKINVASION."

There, he said it.

The forbidden words one shall never say to the person behind the username.

It all started with a website where fanatics come around to talk about fandoms. Everyone in the fandoms know that you don't just come in there to talk about fandoms. You also come there to talk about pairings.

Pairings, as in I want person A and B to end up together and have occasional hot steamy sex, kind of pairings.

To make them easy to say, these pairing are called "ships". If you favour the "ship" above anything else, it will be called your "One True Pairing", or OTP, as they would usually say, because its shorted and easier to mention on threads and fight about and think about them fucking and falling in love.

Alfred remembers being bored that day, with the temperature in the dorms above normal that he won't stop sweating buckets just lying in his bed playing games he drops his console and picks a random series on a data base.

So the series was weird, somewhat disturbing if you're big on history (which he somewhat was) and kind of hard to follow at first (because he watched the episodes on random since they're not even narrated in chronological order) but when he did oh boy was it hard to stop watching.

He's fucking hooked.

So after watching every episode multiple times he swears he can recite the dialogues by heart, he opens another tab on his browser and looks into the website's part where a certain fandom _has to lurk_. The series was kind of old but he knows that the fandom is _big_ , hearing about them in passing talking about the characters in a weird lingo he can't follow up as he was not involved before. He just hopes that the fandom is still alive and somewhat _thriving_.

So he looks for a random ship, something very obvious and most people would ship in a last minute's notice.

 _There_ , a fic rec. Good.

He reads one, then gets hooked and finds out that the author has a companion fic but about a pairing Alfred gives jackshit about because really, technical or not, incest is still creepy and weird.

The author is good though so he gives it a go just because his OTP will be mentioned somewhere, no matter how tiny the cameo.

A sleepless night later, he can't stop shipping the "incestuous ship".

He trades his precious studying time to dig through artist blogs about said ship.

* * *

Okay, so maybe everything actually started _after_ the website. (But then again, Alfred muses, none of this will ever happen if he never discovered the website and lived on as a normal citizen who occasionally watches tv series to pass time.)

THEUKINVASION, or the person behind the name, actually.

THEUKINVASION is not that well-known in the fandom but they have huge enough supporters to get Alfred to check the person's blog and see their contribution to Alfred's ever-growing _fascination_ with a certain ship that used to be secondary to his _ultimate otp_. Somehow, during the course of Alfred reading the spin-off fanfic and searching through the website for more material to devour, it managed to kick OTP 1 and get Alfred's Ultimate OTP title.

Alfred doesn't mind, the fics in that ship were fucking amazing to be honest.

There literally was one fic about the incest that made him ship it harder _because of the incest_. Jesus Christ.

(Somewhere in the back of Alfred's mind, he thinks that he probably just signed his soul off to Satan and anytime soon, people in pitchforks will kick his dorm room open and burn him at the stake for all the sins he's committing ever since joining this fucking fandom.)

To be honest, THEUKINVASION's theme is not even that interesting. Its either that the guy behind the name is a lazy-ass or just plain stupid with html.

Scrolling down through their works made Alfred suppose that it's the latter. THEUKINVASION's fic formats all looked butchered somewhere else but at least it fixed in their blog. Probably why the person stuck with the shitty theme.

So what's so special with THEUKINVASION?

Not much, just that Alfred's crushing on them so bad.

Alfred would probably get asked how in the hell could he develop a crush on someone who never showed their face in public. No one even knows their name, and THEUKINVASION told their fans themselves that they would rather prefer to be called UK.

No one knows about their age or their birthday. Not even which country they came from.

All their bio says was just "Hello I'm a pervert. Warnings for gross things if you don't like them fucking leave"

Oh yes, Alfred forgot to mention early on.

THEUKINVASION's blog is filled with porn.

That's it.

PORN. The gay kind. Men on men or women on women (though the latter is rare).

Apparently "straight sex creeps them out".

Another thing that one should know if they want to scroll through THEUKINVASION's works. They don't write and/or draw vanilla.

THEUKINVASION's favourites were mpregs, omegaverses and blood and gore. That includes gay porn.

So just imagine the amount of tentacles raping pregnant men, or people's eye-sockets getting fucked, or little kids beaten and bloody, vomiting on the floor as they are taken from the behind, and many more of the like you will see if you were to look into their blog.

They don't just draw, they write too.

And fuck if their writing style is not fucking amazing.

It's amazing as fuck how one could make a very elaborate plot that leaves people with fucked up heads because of the foreshadowing that you never knew were always there and the plot twists and manage to squeeze in some kinky shit in the middle or end about skull-fucking or scat that would usually leave people disgusted and disturbed but in Alfred's (and the rest of THEUKINVASION's fans') case, they were left aroused and wanting more.

Alfred couldn't explain it himself either if its because of their writing, or art style, or the cute little author's/artist's/end notes in their fics or art about complaints about running out of tea and not getting enough pepsi for the day but Alfred can't help feel the butterflies in his tummy after reading them and laugh at how cute it is that UK just wrote a very well-written tragedy because they wanted to write something about their OTP fucking.

Damn it he had it bad.

And THEUKINVASION never even knew he exists because he never really made his presence known. He doesn't leave any comments or even like or share THEUKINVASION's blog entries like the rest of their fans do. Alfred doesn't know why either, so asking him is futile.

THEUKINVASION is the type to reply as much as they can to _every_ comment/review they get about their work and the cute emojis he add in each and every reply was something Alfred had a hard time grasping because a person who beats their own readers with plot twists and mind-fucking endings _can't_ talk like they're spitting rainbows and unicorns but this _guy does!_

That's so fucking cute.

So okay, he's somewhat in love.

Somewhat in love that his roommate won't stop throwing his own pillows at him when Alfred can't stop himself from making weird noises when he sees THEUKINVASION updating or posting something new in their blog.

* * *

[But how does all this relate to Alfred finding THEUKINVASION in the flesh and talking to them face to face?

 _Everything_.]

* * *

Alfred remembers that shit vividly as if it was fucking yesterday.

If it wasn't creepy he would've marked the date in his calendar.

It was another one of those hot days, but Alfred was glad that he had a lecture in an air-conditioned hall so he had an hour and a half to spend in the cold, instead of the sweltering heat.

But then his professor had to cancel the class because of some professor work.

With nothing to do to pass the time, he muses he can sleep in the library. The library is air-conditioned anyway.

So up he goes, to the second floor, to make sure that the place is completely empty.

To his delight, the area was isolated, save for that one guy using the library wifi to probably not do anything academic-related because that's what they all do.

Alfred picked a seat nearest to the air conditioner, just so he can get the most of the cool air, which happens to be right behind where the fellow student was sitting on his laptop.

Alfred can clearly see the site the guy was on and to his surprise it was actually _the website_. But this one was switched to their personal blog. Then he sees the guy upload something, and holy shit was that a fic?

Oh my God, this is amusing.

Well, it was until he recognises the blog's boring theme and icon (which is just the union jack).

 _Holy shit._

* * *

 **E/N: So first things first, this idea had been running in head for weeks now and it literally keeps me awake at night sometimes when scenarios flash in my head and last night I gave in to the temptations to abandon my studies and write this for an hour (kind of like a study break haha). So that's why this is incomplete. I'm gonna get back on the second half when I'm done with my exams or something...dunno**

 **Prompt was based on my own experience at library where I saw a guy's laptop screen displaying AO3. He's uploading a homestuck fic I think haha. Whoever you are, your secret's safe with me**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Short chapter is short, ew.**  
 **I'm still trying to get myself do something. Because my big paper is due in a few days and I still have to see my adviser who seemed way better at not finding me this semester so I have this little dilemma if I should just ditch that class entirely...I'm a bad student aren't I**

* * *

 _A_ _lfred can clearly see the site the guy was on and to his surprise it was actually the website. But this one was switched to their personal blog. Then he sees the guy upload something, and holy shit was that a fic?_

 _Oh my God, this is amusing._

 _Well, it was until he recognises the blog's boring theme and icon (which is just the union jack)._

 _Holy shit._

* * *

At that moment, Alfred remembered being filled with hundred different emotions, ranging from the excitement of meeting his favourite artist-slash-fic writer to giddiness for finally getting a glimpse of his so-called crush.

For one, he (THEUKINVASION is a he!) was sitting with his back straight, wrapped in a thick black jacket and Alfred wonders if he's the type of person who shivers at the lowest setting of the air conditioner. He can't tell how he styles his hair though because it's covered by a black beanie. Um.

So much black.

He's wearing so much black.

Considering that THEUKINVASION's blog theme was pastel pink and blue with cute rainbows and unicorns in it he would've thought that the person behind the blog would probably look like some kind of a, _yanno_ , with those pastel coloured-shirts with different cute-coloured collars and leggings with space motif and doll shoes.

Not really the combat boots and heavy jackets.

Don't get Alfred wrong though, for some reason, despite failing the image Alfred conjured for him he can't help but think "yes, this is definitely THEUKINVASION, and he's perfect."

Now he knows what "Love is blind" truly means.

So then he thinks, fuck it, he wanna talk to the guy, so without thinking much of a strategy, he gathers his things and stand up from where he sat and approaches the other boy who appears to still be preoccupied with what he's doing.

When he's finally standing right next to him, he suddenly blurts, nervous, "You're THEUKINVASION."

Wrong move.

Suddenly, the guy stops fiddling on his laptop. Alfred notices how those shoulders visibly flinched.

It was around that same moment when those hands suddenly move again to roughly slam the laptop close, Alfred wincing at the impact- _shit, that could've gotten broken_.

Then without even giving Alfred a glance, he shoves his laptop inside his bag and walks away.

Alfred couldn't bring himself to go after him, really. He doesn't really know what to say if he ever were to stop him.

Alfred felt like crying, really.

* * *

That afternoon, his roommate who haven't got a wink of sleep since the night before was trying to get some shut eye before he had to get up and study some more the night later flips the mattress Alfred was lying on because Alfred "won't lower down his pathetic cries about a 'broken heart'".

Alfred supposes Gilbert was right. Maybe.

* * *

 **E/N:for some reason plot is starting to happen again. God save us all**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

 **Jesus Christ on a pogo stick an actual plot. And here I am thinking this is probably just a drabble fic. Screw me**

 **also why do I keep posting short chapters for the uk invasion? this is not cool at all**

* * *

A week later, the grouchiness that Alfred used to associate his roommate with ever since Gilbert's hellweek has started was gone. Meaning, Gilbert was back to being his dick-ish self again. This is better than the Gilbert who barely slept for 3 days and is not above flipping your mattress if you so much as make a little noise because he can't afford to lose his concentration-because finals is coming and he can't afford to fail his pre-final exams-because, well, no more irritable Gilbert. Seriously, Gilbert the dick who can take a joke was way better than Gilbert the irritable who flips mattresses and smothers you with your own pillow.

It's not Alfred's fault anyway that Gilbert wasted most of the semester away clubbing and drinking with some childhood buddy of his. Gilbert tells him that the guy was actually a professor in the university and doesn't mind a night (or more) of drinking with Gilbert every now and then. Really though, Gilbert remarks with a snort, the day his buddy will refuse a drink will be the day hell freezes over.

"Childhood friend? Professor? How old are you, man?" He once asked the other when he was first told about Gilbert's drinking buddy. That earned him a painful punch in the arm. "Ow, what the hell?"

"That's for insinuating that I'm _old_." That punch left a bruise that took about two weeks to heal.

Alfred used to ask just who this professor-slash-childhood-friend-slash-drinking-buddy of Gilbert was but Gilbert always said, "Nah, you two are from _completely different worlds_ , so even if I say his name, you won't know him." Which Gilbert has a point, so he eventually stopped. He just spent those last few months studying for finals in advance as Gilbert spent the nights outside, partying or drinking with that buddy of his.

The thing with Gilbert being back to his, erm, dick- _ish_ self is that he won't stop laughing at Alfred's face when he sees him scratching his head left and right in frustration because of an essay for his English class.

Alfred sucks at English, most especially at literature. He doesn't know a thing about "reading the fucking text" and giving a thorough analysis. Like how the fuck can he know that the thing with the talking horses in Guilliver's travels was about the author's hate with their subjugators? Guilliver's travels was a trippy book anyway, but his English professor talks about it and the rest of his required readings like they're the answers to the universe.

Well, hate to break it to him, but he's looking at the wrong kind of book.

Alfred once had the urge to say that to his face, but the guy was a fucking terror he'd really rather not risk his GWA* for it. So he endured, sat silently in his seat and pretended to listen and nod occasionally.

(There's a reason why Alfred was majoring in Physics.)

Alfred rereads the guide questions for the essay again and groans. He bangs his head on his desk twice, then another with a louder groan, just to prove how much he hated this class. He thinks that this is probably the only class he'll flunk this semester if he can't get his shit together. If only this class is not a damn requirement for his curriculum he really wouldn't be taking it. He prefers computing for energies and fluxes than talking about an in-depth reading of The Scarlet Letter.

In the corner of the room, by Alfred's bed, he hears Gilbert burp.

"Are you drinking beer?" He groans, his face still stuck to the surface of his desk.

"Jones, when did I _not_ drink beer?"

Alfred slams his head on his desk again, groaning louder than the last.

He hears Gilbert take a last swig on his can before tossing it to the garbage bin then asks Alfred as he bounces on Alfred's bed, "What time is it?"

A glance on his wrist watch. "A quarter past seven."

"Okay, time for me to go." At this Alfred finally turns to look at Gilbert properly and notices that the other was well-dressed-as in well-dressed for a night at a bar-and he warily asks, "You're not going for a drink again are you?"

He gets a scoff from Gilbert. " _Again?_ I spent nights last week _sober_ and studying so I won't fuck up in my finals too much. Now that pre-final results are here and says I'm not in the brink of getting a dismissal, I think it's a good time for me to celebrate, yeah?"

"What the- _celebrate_? By calling your drinking buddy over to get smashed in a bar?" Alfred's head started hurting. Why can't he get an ordinary roommate who fusses over grades like he does? Gilbert's logic is doing bad things to his brain.

A part of his mind was wondering what kind of professor would agree to go outside for a drink with a _student_ on a _school night_. Must be someone with Gilbert's personality, so definitely not a science guy. Maybe Gilbert was just pulling his leg anyway because he's sure as heck he has yet to hear about a professor who gets smashed like Gilbert on a weekly basis.

"You drink even when there's no occasion!" Gilbert carelessly shrugs.

"And you study when there's no exam, and I don't hound your ass for it don't I?"

Gilbert's phone rings.

"Oops, that's him and he's pissed. Gotta go!"

"Gilbert!"

The door shuts with a loud slam.

Alfred groans.

A glance at his blank word document makes him groan again, louder.

* * *

The semester ends and Alfred gets enough score to pass his English class. It kind of pulled his GWA down, but at least he didn't lose his scholarship so Alfred supposes it was fine.

That doesn't change that fact that he'll probably carry this grudge on that professor for as long as he lives though.

* * *

"Dude, if you're taking literature reading avoid Kirkland at all costs. That guy was the devil incarnate, I'm telling ya. He gave me a 3.00** man."

"Kirkland was also my professor from my research writing class. He was fair in giving out grades." Kiku tells Alfred, confusion written all over his face. He pulls out his registration form, showing his schedule to Alfred, pointing at his literature reading class class in particular.

"I picked his class for lit reading."

Alfred chokes on his coke, some of it dribbling down his chin and Kiku's face contorts in disgust. He wipes it on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Dude, no,"

"Um, yes? I like Kirkland." The look on Kiku's face was bordering confused and unsure. Unsure of what, Alfred cannot exactly tell, but he hopes it was "unsure whether or not liking Kirkland was a good idea" because if it is, Alfred thinks he can help his friend with that. It's not too late to switch classes yet, right?

It appears that Alfred's face reflects the look of total disbelief, as Kiku sighs and his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as tucks his registration form back in his bag, "I guess it was just a matter of perspective, yes?"

Then Alfred remembers how his classmates all got decent grades and did not seem to get so worked up on it as he was. Alfred refused to believe it was because literature was his weakest subject though. It's just that Kirkland was a shitty professor who always looks like he'll chew you into bits if you so much as asked about topics you don't understand and he gives unfair assignments. Like who the hell has the time to read a novel in a semester, right?

"Huh," he remarks.

Kiku smiles then looks at his watch. "I guess it's time for me to go," Kiku leaves with a slight wave that Alfred returns.

Alfred refuses to be wrong. It wasn't his fault he got a low grade on that class. It was always the professor's fault.

Then again, he remembers that he spent most of the nights where he was supposed to be reading Kirkland's readings going through THEUKINVASION's things, so…

Nah.

Kirkland was a shitty professor and by the end of the semester, he's sure Kiku will be sharing his opinion. When did Alfred ever go wrong, anyway?

* * *

 **E/N: GWA stands for General Weighted Average. I think you guys call it GPA? But in my uni we call it gwa so I'll call it that**  
 **3.00 is the lowest passing grade one could get with 1.00 being the highest, 5.00 for failing (in my uni, anyway). It differs on every uni tho because some has 5.00 for the highest passing grade with 1.00 for failing. Dunno how that works.**

 **Did you guys expect that little plot twist (gasp) because I didn't lol**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: please, don't do any of what gilbert does in this fic. I do not approve of them, personally.**

Time check: 6:03 pm, Friday.

Alfred is peacefully lying in side of the room, intent on sleeping at least a couple more hours before getting up around maybe 10 pm to eat something cheap and quick, like those beef-flavoured cup noodles he had lying around his secret stash of food. Maybe he'll scroll around the internet for a while whilst he eat, refreshing a certain someone's blog, in the hopes that maybe he'll talk about a fan who recognised him in real life (but it's been no more than six months now, since that fateful day) and then go back to sleep and worry for his upcoming deadlines the following morning, where he'll be expecting himself to wake up around noon or later, when the weather gets colder.

This is how his Fridays usually go, these days, and this is how he had expected this Friday to go as well.

Unfortunately, Gilbert has other plans in mind.

"Ow! What the fuck, man?" By that, he was referring to the uncalled mattress-lifting. Hell week season has just ended about a week or so ago, and around this time, students are in the middle of recuperating the sleep they have lost and in Gilbert's case, the drinking and clubbing he has missed. As far as Alfred knows, he doesn't warrant any mattress-lifting because (1) he's too busy with school work and (2) it's not hell week.

"Get up; you're coming with me tonight." Is what the other simply says. Then Alfred sees his blurry figure dart across the room and into his closet, shoving and chucking his clothes into the floor. He feels his skin grow cold and he jumps up immediately, one hand reaching for his glasses sitting on his desk before he runs to Gilbert, "Hey, what are you doing to my clothes?"

"Picking you something nice to wear. Ew, you really only have t-shirts?"

"...you're wearing a t-shirt."

"But not the nerdy kind!"

Alfred balks, "What-?! Wait, no," He sighs. He grabs at Gilbert again, successfully stopping the other's closet raid and he speaks again, "Dude, I'm not interested in party stuff. I'll bore the heck outta you and your buddy and if I'm to be honest," He shakes his head, "I'd really prefer it if I get my degree never knowing who the heck this guy is, because he sounds like a very bad influence."

Gilbert's brows furrow, as if Alfred is saying something in a language he doesn't understand. This is mostly likely also true. "What? No, he's not. He's the biggest stuck-up right next to you." Then the asshole had the gall to laugh at his face. Alfred feels the last of his brain cells wither and die.

"What?"

"No, no, trust me. This will be the best night of your boring college life, I swear on my bro." It would have been great if he did not pause, then blink. "No, wait never mind, I swear on that weird crush of yours."

"Dude, no."

Gilbert groans, "But seriously, what could hurt? It's only for tonight, it's Friday, you have me with you-and a goddamned faculty too! Nothing bad will happen."

Alfred, already thinking of the possible outcomes a sad loner like him being put into loud crowds and party people, snorts, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"It's not even mandatory to drink alcoholic stuff! My buddy will understand."

"No, he'll probably discriminate because I'm a baby in glasses."

Alfred's laugh slows to an awkward halt when he sees Gilbert's smile morph into a blank stare. Then his brows furrow deeper than the last and he smacks him upside the head.

"Ow! Shit, what the fuck?"

"Stop saying nihilistic weird shit, I'm getting worried."

"I'm sorry, you flipped my mattress and my brain is fried!"

"All the more reason you should come hang with us!"

"I don't want to!"

* * *

"I can't believe you dragged me into a bar." He grumbles at Gilbert, who only shrugs and shoves him into the entrance. Alfred's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he notice that they got in without a hitch. He turns to Gilbert, who is already on his way to one of the reserved tables, probably already to meet up with his professor of a buddy, whoever that is. He pulls at him, stopping him in tracks. Gilbert turns to ask, "What?"

"Dude, they didn't ask for our Ids, what the fuck is going on?"

Gilbert's eyes brighten, "Oh, that's because we're all students here. Come on, we got later than usual because I had to dress you up."

Alfred knows that this mini district of bars and clubs near their campus exists, knows that about a quarter or maybe even half of the student population goes out here on a nightly basis to drink, but to think that the owners barely give a fuck about the legal drinking age is just insane. He was just about to relay this bit of realisation he has to his roommate but Gilbert wouldn't have it, who pretty much pulled Alfred with him to approach one of the reserved tables he had seen before the other had stopped him to ask about Ids.

"Hey, look, there he is." Gilbert tells Alfred. He then turns to the person in question and raises a hand to call them up and Alfred gets a good clear look on who this childhood friend his roommate was talking about. His eyes widen and he feels his entire body sweat blood.

"No way..."

"Hey, Arthur!"

Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. He just happened to be the terror of a professor Alfred had last semester who gave him an almost failing grade of 3, which to a grade conscious student like Alfred felt like a huge blow to his pride. After getting that much of an embarrassment, he had sworn never to cross paths with the devil, but that seems to go down the drain, now that he has his hand held in a vice grip courtesy of his roommate, of course.

For a moment, he felt like his soul flew out of his body, and that he's watching his ever-oblivious roommate carry what used to be Alfred Jones towards his doom. He can hear his own voice scream, like how those souls in the ninth circle of hell did in Alighieri's Inferno. Yes, he read that shit and he actually understood the fucking poem, thank you very much.

"You're late." He hears the devil speak and he actually felt his mouth release a goddamned squeak because for a moment he thought that face is looking at him with that Kirkland-Trademarked resting bitch face.

"Well, yeah," Gilbert answers nonchalantly, deflecting the death rays with the grace of a duck that has water flow down its back. He's secretly glad that his squeak got muffled when Gilbert pushed him to sit on the plush chair in front of Kirkland. None of them seemed to pay much attention to him, which is good, he tells himself. He'll just have to make himself small throughout the night, and he'll be able to go home and kill Gilbert in private for offering him up straight to the devil.

That was the plan, but then Gilbert had to, of course, ruin it completely with his glorious self.

"I had to dress this little boy up, you know." He points at Alfred, who was sitting stiffly on his seat and the moment Kirkland's dead eyes turn to him, he felt himself die and then resurrect once again.

"H, huh? Me?" He heard himself mumble, like an actual nerd. Internally, he wishes that Kirkland doesn't remember him. It had only been four months since his semester with the guy ended, and he's one of the devil's favourite students to roast on a daily basis but he wishes to god that the devil has a memory span of a semester.

He flinches when Gilbert pushes at his shoulder and he doesn't know if its because the guy has strong hits today or it was just because his body is getting too aware of stuff right now. "Yes, you!" He turns to Kirkland, "I fucking swear, man, this is the most decent stuff he has to wear right now."

Yes! That's fucking right! Keep turning me the center of his attention, God, I'll fucking kill you. Internal Alfred says, while external Alfred just felt his heart stop when he felt those eyes go up and down his form, evidently checking what exactly Gilbert was talking about. Then he nods, "At least it's decent."

God, is it closing time already?

If things can't get any worse, Kirkland leans into the table across them and reaches out a hand and tells Alfred, "Hello, my friends call me Arthur. It's nice to meet you." He gives Alfred a nod, offering his hand.

Stiffly, Alfred raises his own and tries his best to act as casual as he could, because thank God, the devil does have a memory span of a semester.

"Yeah, same here. I'm Alfred, Sir." He shakes the hand offered and he felt like he looked just a goddamned robot with faucet for hands, because his hands were sweating buckets and God, please if you're still accepting requests, may Kirkland not talk about it?

Using the way the light makes his glasses glow and his eyes unseen, he stares at the way Kirkland takes his hand back stiffly and oh-so-subtly wipes them on his slacks. Yes, his hands were indeed as functional as a water faucet right now and of course the devil will notice. He probably looks like a sweating pig right now and he wants to go home.

Beside him, Gilbert snorts, oblivious to Alfred's internal monologues and Kirkland's subtle hand-wiping of his childhood friend's roommate's sweaty handshake. "Ew, just call him Arthur. Please."

Kirkland nods, "Yes. You're not student and were here to drink." That seems to be the cue because Gilber and Kirkland then raises their hands at the same time and calls for a waiter to order their drinks. The action was so well-synched that it had Alfred staring at them throughout the entire ordeal and there is no doubt in his heart anymore on who Gilbert spends these nights with.

But what the fuck, Gilbert was doing the same thing around the time he had Kirkland as his professor, and the guy never seemed to look as drunk or hung over like Gilbert ever did during their lectures. This is insane.

"We'll take the usual, and some coke. Don't forget to bring a lot of ice."

"Coke?" Kirkland's eyebrow quirks up in question, looking at Alfred. He felt his face go red, realising that he's the only one who's going to end up sober when the night ends.

"Oh, he doesn't drink." Gilbert says. It seems to be the end of the conversation since Kirkland simply nods and confirms to the waiter that that will be all what they're going to have for now.

Alfred may not have been the type to go out to these kinds of gatherings, but he knows how they usually go. Now isn't so different, with Kirkland's attention on Alfred and Gilbert now being left on his own devices as they wait for their orders to come around.

"So, Alfred, Gilbert told me you're majoring in physics?"

Alfred chokes on his own spit, "Uh, yeah."

"I see," Kirkland nods again. "I heard the major classes were difficult though, so how are you fairing so far?"

"Um, not really? I mean, I love physics, so I kind of enjoy my classes. A bunch of professors love making the exams challenging too so that's great."

Kirkland's brows raise, "Really? Interesting..." His eyes seemed to light up at this and Alfred almost jumps at the sight, then he adds, "...then what about maths? I want to hear your opinion on this one, considering you're majoring in science," He whispers, "My students hate the subject, you see, and compared to the science majors, theirs isn't even that hard. "

"Oh, um," It's not hard of a question either, considering the answer is glaringly obvious but hearing this man speak in a tone different to what he was used to, well, it's strange. He doesn't look as scary anymore, looking like that. Almost.

Alfred swallows, "I'm...not really the best basis here, because the hardest math out there were for the engineering students, but if you want to know, I kind of handled my math great too. It's kind of basic-ish, I guess."

"I see." While listening, Kirkland suddenly winces and Gilbert in the background has definitely seen, because he's been keeping quiet and listening to their conversation and laughs.

"Basic-ish, oh my god, you just killed off his brain, thank you so much, you killed him!"

"What?" He looks between professor and roommate, the other beet red with their face hidden in their hands and the other still choking down their laughter. Gilbert feels somewhat merciful and tells Alfred, "Arthur's a lit guy-you know, those guys who fuck books and eat words-" His expression becomes solemn, "He's not a fan of-" He makes strange hand gestures at him, "-whatever the heck it was you just said. You know, those not-real-english words thing. Though he loves English slang." Then he laughs again and points at Kirkland, "Oh my god, why is your face fucking red? That's super gross!"

"Shut the fuck up!" An actual table napkin holder flies across the table and hits Gilbert square on the head. It leaves a red stinging mark but the man in question seemed to take it as his cue to laugh harder.

Then the drinks finally come in and somehow the event is forgotten, traded for juicy faculty gossips mostly because Gilbert has so many of them and according to Arthur-God, he's on a first name basis with the devil now-the guy never runs out of fresh shit every night when they meet up to talk and drink. Alfred, who doesn't give a shit about what his professors do after they give an hour or two long lectures and a couple of reading materials, and Arthur, a professor who apparently has some good morals, both half-listened to Gilbert's tales with a series of "Ah," "huh," and "Uh huh"s and if it wasn't surreal enough, every now and then Alfred will end up meeting eyes with the professor and they'll both give each other a knowing and tired smiles because ain't Gilbert just a fucking disaster.

* * *

"See, wasn't that fun?" Gilbert asks him on their way home, back to the students dorms that is now most likely closed and the gates locked because its past their curfew but Gilbert has done it so many times that he assured Alfred that he's got a secret entrance where they will be able to get in just fine without the dorm security or Dean finding out about it. Much to Alfred's judgement, he believed him.

Alfred rubs his sides, looking around the empty path and thinks that this is the great time for a psycho to jump and kill them. "I guess?" He looks back behind them and is met with the empty road. They just waved goodbye to Arthur, who lives on the other side of the campus, by the residential area reserved for faculties and now they're already alone. Just how fast does that guy walk, anyway?

And speaking of which, "Oh god, I'm on a first name basis!" He groans into his hands in despair.

"What?" Asks Gilbert, the ever oblivious.

"Arthur!"

"Yeah, so? It's not like he's gonna end up becoming your professor, anyway. You guys live in different worlds, remember?"

Alfred wanted to say it. He really wanted to say it so bad he thinks he'll die if he didn't. But then again, this is Gilbert. He just sat and heard the guy spill the dirtiest secrets of people he doesn't personally know to Arthur and him because he thinks it's funny. The chances of Gilbert running to Arthur as soon as he is able just to spill and laugh about his roommate's hatred for the professor is just too damned high. Arthur will find out who he really was, and he will hear just how much Alfred had hated and cursed him back in the confines of his dorm room and he will kill Alfred in his sleep.

"Hey, we're here."

"Huh?" His train of thought gets cut when he sees just what Gilbert was pointing at. Or where they are in, exactly.

He realises that they're at the side of the dormitory, facing the metal fence and Gilbert has already started crouching, pulling at a large rock sticking to the fence's base. When it was successfully pushed away, he gawks, "Holy shit, you dug this?"

Beneath the rock, is indeed, a hole with a size huge enough for a person of Gilbert and Alfred's size to squeeze through. Alfred finds himself speechless, unable to process that such things can happen in real life.

"Shh! Not so loud, the campus police is still patrolling. I'll keep watch so get in and just keep running until you're inside our room. I'll take care of everything."

Alfred shakes his head, "Jesus Christ, man. I'm not drinking with you guys again." Then he proceeds to squeeze through the hole, leaving the other behind, as he was told to do so.

 **E/N: Hello.**

 ***The legal drinking age in the Philippines as far as I know is 18. I had a senpai who migrated tothe US and visited some years ago and told me that the weirdest shit she couldnt get used to was that people here don't check your ids for alcohol (but that's mostly because the red light district near my uni is used to serving students. Kids in my old uni loves to drink their pain away, true story)**  
 ***Campus police is a thing, because of the presence of frats and soros, its normal to have frat fights and some result in actual deaths, so the campus put it upon themselves to have their own police force, who were pretty much very strict with keeping the students off the campus grounds when its past 9 pm. Student organisations are pretty toxic too, they act like frats/soros so they also keep track of those because they do a lot of initiations behind buildings and the main student library.**  
 ***Gilbert and the hole he dug up on the fence of their student dormitory: True story. Except this is a gate. So when I was a freshman, I've got a couple of blockmates who live in the campus dorms and the curfew is 10 pm. As freshmen, we were always invited to student org orientations that last until 11-12 midnight. They told me (who lives in an apartment, doesnt have a curfew) that they manage to get in by slipping under the gate, with the help of digging a little into the ground and stuff so "its okay, lol"**

 **please, don't do any of what gilbert does in this fic. I do not approve of them, personally.**

 **I wanted to make this chapter longer due to the long-ass wait but it seems like this fic will just have to be like this until it ends. I'm very sorry for that.**


End file.
